


strangers

by polyjaemin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - DJ/Producers, Alternate Universe - Rave Bros, Festivals, Flirting, Hook-Up, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Content, Unresolved to Resolved Sexual Tension, basically lots of sexual tension, but beyond, making my own tags for this lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyjaemin/pseuds/polyjaemin
Summary: Haechan doesn’t even make the type of music Mark is usually into, who tends to go more for the kind of trance that he can rave to and fist pump to and get fuckin’hype, and leaves the funkier or darker house stuff to Jeno.But there he found himself, swaying in the heat of the crowd, snapback turned backwards on his head, one person between him and the DJ table and the fuckinggorgeousboy bouncing behind it, and Mark’s mouth went dry at the way his lips formed the words of the songs he was mixing, the way his black shirt and ripped black jeans hugged his arms and thighs, the way his dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as he danced and moved to the beat.SomaybeMark was ready to broaden his musical horizons a little.///dj/producer donghyuck and rave bro mark :)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 53
Kudos: 374





	strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buttonsoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttonsoo/gifts).



> SURPRISE!!! IT IS HERE!
> 
> tayler and i have had this au for like a year and a half and i am so so happy to finally have written it and share it~ a HUGE MAJORITY of the excitement of this au has been shaping and enjoying [tayler's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2taKA4GJJc3u0rY1dQbUel?si=OmRN9_X3TluG3WA6-pz5lw) of songs that we imagine to be the sort of music donghyuck would be producing or mixing in this au!! pls give it a listen if you're interested!!! it's really the heart of this au~
> 
> thank u patty for being a lovely beta and always cheering me on, esp when i couldn't share this lol <3
> 
> tayler my sunshine happy happy birthday 🧡☀️ i'm so sorry this is so late and I hope it's everything you've imagined <3

“Come oooooon, you _gotta_ come, Mark.”

Jeno’s head is upside down, hanging off the couch in Mark’s apartment, and he moves his phone aside to look at him.

“Bro, I already have a job lined up after graduation this summer, I can’t ask for time off before I even _start_ ,” Mark whines, throwing his pencil down on his notebook and looking over to Jeno.

“But Tiesto!! And A&B! And Adam Beyer!!” Jeno says, waving his phone at Mark even though he’s a solid six feet too far away to see the fest lineup displayed on it. “Jones and Capriati!”

“Jenooo,” Mark groans, “Shut up! You know I can’t say no to Joe.”

He watches Jeno go back to looking at the lineup, zooming in and scrolling through the artists, listing off some of them excitedly. Suddenly his face lights up in shock, and his jaw falls open. “Oh my god.”

“What?? Who is it?”

Jeno sits up quickly and looks at Mark, eyes wide. “Haechan.”

“ _What?!_ ” Mark hops up out of his seat, work forgotten, running to the couch and grabbing Jeno’s phone from his hand. Sure enough, there in the middle of the list in tiny text is the name HAECHAN, styled boldly in front of the arch and rays of a rising sun. “What the fuck, dude!!”

“I know!!! I had no idea he got a festival gig, oh my god,” Jeno smiles widely, grabbing his phone back from Mark and switching to his texts. Mark watches him pull up a conversation with _donghyuck ☀️_ and type in _DUDE!!!!! congrats!!!!!!!_

“That’s amazing, holy shit,” Mark smiles.

“Now you _know_ you have to come,” Jeno says, “for him,” and Mark clicks his tongue at the implication, even though he’s already decided.

“Fuck off, man. I’ll try, alright?”

♪♫♪

It’s really not a huge deal to ask for a long weekend, seeing as the record company that offered him the job is owned by his brother’s boyfriend’s uncle’s… husband? And they’d basically begged him to come on as an intern.

And for Haechan? Worth asking, to see him again.

He doesn’t even make the type of music Mark is usually into, tending to go more for the kind of trance that he can rave to and fist pump to and get fuckin’ _hype_ , and leaves the funkier or darker house stuff to Jeno and the frankly creepy Gesa shrine in his dorm. But six-ish months ago Jeno had insisted on dragging him along to some fancy ass new club on the other side of the city to see one of his favorite local DJs.

“Who?” Mark had asked, trying to resist but knowing Jeno would convince him to go anyway. 

“Donghyuck? Haechan is his stage name. We’ve been friends for a while, you’ve probably seen him around.”

“Oh, is that the dude you went to EZOO with last year?” Mark vaguely remembered some selfies on Jeno’s instagram with a boy with big eyes and full, round lips. When Jeno nodded, he continued, “Huh. I didn’t know he was a DJ, too.”

“Yeah dude, I’ve been listening to him since he was, like, posting old school remixes on SoundCloud in high school and we’re friends now. He’s a lot of fun. And he’s been doing really well lately! Come on, I know it’s not your usual jam, but he’s a good time.”

“I’ve got a paper to write, man, I shouldn’t,” Mark tried again, futilely. 

“It’s just one night! We don’t even have to stay after to talk or hang, I just grabbed lunch with him the other day,” Jeno hangs off the arm of his chair to give Mark some seriously desperate puppy eyes. “Come on, Maaaark, I don’t wanna go alone and Chenle’s already got plans. Please?” 

And no one can say no when Jeno says _please._

So there he found himself, swaying in the heat of the crowd, snapback turned backwards on his head, one person between him and the DJ table and the fucking _gorgeous_ boy bouncing behind it, whose lips looked even more full than Mark remembered. He was… enthralling, honestly, Mark’s mouth going dry at the way his lips formed the words of the songs he was mixing, the way his black shirt and ripped black jeans hugged his arms and thighs, the way his dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as he danced and moved to the beat. The way he kept catching Mark’s staring eyes and smirked and winked like he _knew._

So _maybe_ Mark was ready to broaden his musical horizons a little. 

He was honestly fucking _good,_ though, too, so Mark kept going to a few of Haechan’s shows here and there with Jeno in the following months, him and Jeno going off for hours after every show about his set choices and his taste and _skill._ They tried to catch his shows whenever they could, mostly DJ sets in local clubs between some tour dates on the East Coast, not that Mark was keeping tabs, now, or anything. 

The universe and/or Jeno seemed to be really fucking frustratingly cockblocking him, though, because he kept rushing them out after shows with homework to do, or another show to get to, or whatever the fuck else, resigning Mark to just making eyes at Haechan while he danced, hoping he wasn’t coming off as just, like, creepy, or horny as hell. But something in the way Haechan - _Donghyuck_ \- looked back at him made him feel like it wasn’t terribly unwelcome.

Something stirred in his stomach a little, thinking about the possibility of seeing him at the festival in the summer, wondering if they’d finally get a chance to actually meet or if The Universe And Jeno would kill his chances to get to know him yet _again_ and they’d be stuck as strangers for fucking _ever._ He hoped not.

(“Dude. Do you just want his number? Or instagram or snap or something?”

_“No,_ Jeno, I’ve gotta focus on finals right now,” Mark had answered, because Jeno didn’t need to know he stalks Donghyuck’s insta like every other day.

“Finals... and eyefucking your new favorite DJ on the weekends?” 

“No idea what you’re talking about, man.”)

♪♫♪

By the time Mark walks the stage, degree in hand and _summa cum laude_ cord around his neck, he’s simultaneously ready to face the Real World and ready to let the fuck _loose_ and go to every rave, show, and set humanly possible for the next, like, year straight, to dance off all the stress of school that had weighed him down for all of his recent memory.

He goes to Johnny’s last house party (invitation by text reading: _last big bang for alpha sig!!!! gonna be fuckin liiiit dude jae and yuta got all the henny!!! come ready!!_ ) and must get absolutely fucking _smashed_ because he totally hallucinates for a second that he sees Donghyuck dancing across the room, moving his hips torturously smoothly. Mark blinks through heavy drunken eyes to get a better look but Yukhei pulls him away to get another drink. 

“Bro _wait,_ I think I just saw someone,” Mark says, slurred, face turned back to scan the crowd again, but he can’t spot the tuft of dark hair anymore.

“There’s lots of someones here, dude, it’s a party,” Yukhei replies, pushing their way through to the kitchen.

“No, dude, like a _someone_ someone.”

“Someone you know? Like a _special_ someone?” Yukhei pushes the door open and drags Mark to the drinks littered across the counter. 

Mark thinks for a second how to answer it, images of Donghyuck and his smile and his hands moving over a DJ table swirling around his drunken head. _Yes._ “Nah,” he says, though, taking a shot glass from Yukehei, “just a stranger. But, like... I _wanna_ know him, you know?”

“You will, dude, you will,” Yukhei puts a hand on Mark’s shoulder and nods sagely, “when the time is right.” 

Mark nods back, and they take another shot.

♪♫♪

June comes way faster than it has any right to, as time usually moves, and Mark, thank God, has no issue getting Thursday and Friday off work to head down the coast to the festival, arm hanging out Jeno’s car window as they blast Madeon.

“Oh shit, hang on, Haechan and Elephante are playing at the same time on different stages,” Mark says with a click of his tongue, looking at the fest schedule on his phone.

“Same time?”

“Yeah dude, they’re both at 2 tomorrow. Which do you wanna see?” Mark asks, even though he already knows what Jeno will say. 

“Ah man, that sucks,” Jeno says, glancing over. “But you know I wouldn’t miss Donghyuck’s first fest gig for anyone.”

“Even Gesa?”

Jeno makes an offended noise. “Don’t even _dare._ ”

♪♫♪

And, so, to Haechan’s stage they go, kandi covering Mark’s wrists, body glitter and stripes of colorful paint covering his exposed arms and chest that his loose hanging tie dye tank shows off, and beers in their hands, both already a little buzzed from pre-gaming starting before it was even noon.

They’re pleased to see a good crowd there, even though it’s a side stage and still early afternoon, dancing to the DJ playing before, some tiny boy called Renjun that Jeno had described just as “kind of experimental? But not in, like, a weird way?”

They dance their way to the front, squeezing into a space at the barricade just in time for Donghyuck himself to come out, joining Renjun at the table and bumping shoulders with him, leaning in to say something and laughing together. Donghyuck looks gorgeous, as always, Mark thinks, even though he must be fucking _boiling_ in his standard all black outfit, black t-shirt tucked into black jeans with chain from his belt loops down to - Mark’s eyes go wide - are those fucking _leather garters_ over his jeans? Mark takes a gulp of his beer.

Donghyuck and Renjun switch off playing back to back for a few minutes, beat not stopping, until Donghyuck picks up the mic and sends him off stage with ample cheers from the crowd, and focuses in on his own set. 

It’s fucking hot, sun high in the sky, as Mark and Jeno dance, arms up, bouncing on the balls of their feet, jumping when the beat drops, yelling when their favorite songs show up, Donghyuck transitioning flawlessly through his set. He nods to them a few times, smile spread wide across his face, and Mark swallows down the rest of his beer and gets lost in the music.

He’s sweat through his tank by the end of the set, and as Jeno drags him around to the back of the stage he takes his bandana off to wipe at his forehead and neck before reaffixing it, trying not to worry that he’s a fucking sweaty mess the first time he’s _finally_ about to meet Donghyuck. They catch his eye but stand by and wait for him to finish talking with some fans before he comes over, brushing damp hair from his own forehead.

After giving Jeno a full handshake/bro hug, Donghyuck turns to Mark and puts his hand out, mouth turned up in a half smile.

“Mark Lee,” he says, like they’re old friends, and Mark watches his lips say his name. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Mark takes his hand and hopes his own isn’t still sweaty. “You too, man. Ah, sorry if I’m like super sweaty. Um, great set.”

Donghyuck laughs, and squeezes his hand, and then just says, “Cute. Thanks.” And takes his hand away, and Mark is left to gape at him as he turns back to Jeno. _Cute?_

“Dude, the way you mixed Voyager in with Break My Heart?” Jeno brings his fingers to his lips in a _chef’s kiss._ “Ugh, fucking perfect.” 

Donghyuck laughs again, and Mark thinks it’s maybe approximately a thousand times cuter in real life than it is through the screen of his Instagram story. “Thanks man, I was so glad I pulled that off.” Another laugh. God, _definitely_ a thousand times cuter. “This is one of my favorite sets I’ve done, I think.”

They talk for a few more minutes about music, until Renjun appears by Donghyuck’s side, and he introduces them. 

“This is my friend Jeno from back home, and his friend Mark, who I just met,” Donghyuck says, and Mark doesn’t miss how Donghyuck quickly looks him up and down as he says it.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around before, I think,” Renjun says, pointing to Jeno. “You’re friends with Jaemin, right?”

Jeno smiles, his eyes squishing into crescents, “Kind of, I see him around a lot, but…” 

“Oh, speak of the actual devil,” Donghyuck interrupts, looking down at his phone and sliding his thumb across it to answer. “Hey Jaem. Nah, I’m still backstage with Renjun and Jeno, you know Jeno, right?” There’s a pause while Jaemin says something, and Mark watches Jeno’s face as he looks away to hide his blush. Jaemin certainly _does_ know Jeno, specifically his mouth, quite intimately, getting well acquainted with it while very drunk at a show. Not that Jeno had ever brought it up, because he was pretty sure Jaemin didn’t remember, and they were more casual friends-of-friends acquaintances than friends themselves. (“I think Jaemin kind of gets around, anyway,” Jeno had said, after, “it’s not like he’d be into me beyond that.”)

Donghyuck talks to Jaemin for another few exchanges, whining that he’s _hungry_ and doesn’t _wanna_ go to the main stage right now.

“I can go meet up with him, tell him to stop whining,” Renjun says, half to Donghyuck and half into the phone.

“ _HYUCK IS THE ONE WHINING,_ ” Jaemin’s voice comes out of the speaker loudly, and Donghyuck pulls it away from his ear with a yell.

“I just played a 45 minute set! I’m hungry!”

“I could eat,” Mark says, and Donghyuck looks to him. “I could go grab some food with you?”

“ _WHO’S THAT,_ ” comes loudly from the phone.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS,” Donghyuck practically yells back, and hangs up on him, turning back to Renjun. “You guys wanna go meet up with Jaemin while Mark and I grab food?”

“Sure,” Renjun shrugs.

Jeno nods to Mark, asking with his eyes if he’s cool with this? And when Mark nods, Jeno smiles and looks between him and Donghyuck, not subtle at all. “Have fun.”

And then he is left with Donghyuck, who, when Mark turns back to him, is very fucking obviously looking him up and down again, making Mark flush.

But what Donghyuck says is, “You like burritos?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Nice, a friend recommended a place nearby,” Donghyuck says, and starts walking toward the city. Mark blinks for a second, and then follows. 

He catches up to him and it’s awkward for, like, ten seconds, until Donghyuck speaks, “I was wondering if we’d ever actually meet.”

“Me too,” Mark says. “Jeno and I were, like, so fuckin’ excited when we saw you on the lineup, though, dude. Your first fest! It’s awesome, man.”

“Keeping tabs on me, huh?”

Mark flounders for a second, but then points out, “You’re the one who knew my name before I even introduced myself.”

“It’s not a hard name to remember,” Donghyuck says with a scoff. “And you’re all over Jeno’s instagram. I couldn’t escape you even if I wanted to. And I tried.”

Mark should really be offended, but Donghyuck’s lips are pouted adorably, and Donghyuck knew his name and his face, and doesn’t really seem to actually mind that much.

“You really stand out at my shows, you know?” Donghyuck continues, and when Mark opens his mouth to ask _why,_ Donghyuck stops abruptly and opens the door to the restaurant beside them. “Here!”

The burrito joint is a tiny hole-in-the-wall place packed with people, which is the best kind of place, except that it’s so full it leaves Donghyuck crowded into Mark’s space while they stand in line, their arms pressed together from shoulder to elbow, and Mark is stuck trying decidedly not to think about how they’re standing so close that he can see the slight glisten of sweat on Donghyuck’s upper lip, the tiny smudge of eyeshadow on his eyelid, the stray eyelash on his cheek. 

Donghyuck, though, leans in even _closer_ to talk to Mark through the noise, and even though they’re just talking about the simplest things, like burritos and hot sauce and their favorite places to eat back home, the way he smiles at Mark keeps making his breath catch, his heart stutter in his chest. 

They decide to just get takeout and head back, Mark finally able to breathe again outside of the cramped restaurant, and they walk along the waterfront park until they find a grassy hill to sit on, side by side, and dig in.

“It’s the whole rave bro look that really stood out,” Donghyuck says, the conversation eventually circling back to Mark, “at my shows.”

“‘Rave bro’?”

“Yeah, the usual crowd at my shows aren’t typically so,” Donghyuck gestures vaguely at Mark’s whole person, “fratty?” 

Mark pauses, looking down at himself. “‘Fratty’?” 

Donghyuck looks him up and down again, like it’s obvious, and then bursts into laughter at Mark’s face. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Markie.” He takes the final bite of his burrito and squishes up the foil, lying back on the grass and propping his arms behind his head, propping up the knee nearer to Mark.

“At least I won’t get heat stroke from wearing all black in June.” He flicks at Donghyuck’s knees, grabbing at the rips in his jeans, laughing. “Black jeans, boots? How are you even in sleeves right now?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck acts offended, hand to his chest, “every part of this look is crucial, okay? Sacrifices must be made to look this good.”

“I’m not dressed like a funeral and _I_ still look good,” Mark says, fingers still tracing along the rips in Donghyuck’s jeans, brushing his warm skin.

“You sure about that?” Donghyuck smirks back at him, and peeks out of the side of his eyes, taking another slow look, head to toe, and it says something totally different from the words coming out of his mouth. 

Mark ducks his head, taking his hand away to busy himself with wiping at his mouth with a napkin to hide the heat blooming on his face.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in a PLUR shirt and an arm full of kandi, anyway,” Donghyuck says, flipping back between flirty and teasing so quickly makes Mark’s head spin.

Mark scoffs a laugh and looks down at his wrists at the colorful bracelets going halfway up his arm, and takes off the brightest one, with alternating yellow and orange beads. He takes Donghyuck’s hand from where it’s resting on his stomach and slides it onto his wrist, and laughs at the surprise on his face. 

“Why yellow and orange?” Donghyuck asks, eyebrows high. He spins his wrist around in the air to show it off, standing out bright against his tan skin and his all-black getup.

“Because Haechan,” Mark laughs. “The sun in your logo and stuff, right? It fits.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says, smile turning soft for a long moment, and then looks back up at his wrist. “It looks ridiculous,” he says, then, with a laugh. But he doesn’t take it off.

♪♫♪

Eventually they get up to walk back along the park toward the festival, chatting comfortably about life and school and music, and it probably shouldn’t be this comfortable with a stranger, Mark thinks, but something about Donghyuck is just... magnetic. Just _right._ Like maybe they were always meant to be friends, like maybe they’ve sort of known each other by proxy long enough that they had both started thinking of each other as something more than strangers before today.

 _Friends,_ Mark thinks, the afternoon California sun warm on their faces and the yellow and orange that keeps catching his eye when Donghyuck gesticulates, or shoves at him with a laugh, or takes his phone out of his pocket for a second, checking whatever’s there just to put it away in favor of smiling back up at Mark. 

“Guess we should meet back up with the guys,” Mark finally says when they flash their wristbands to get back onto the festival grounds, and takes his phone out to text Jeno, only to find a few texts from him already there, timestamped just a few minutes earlier.

**jeno** : heyyy we decided we were hungry too lol are you cool hanging out with donghyuck alone for a while longer?  
**jeno** : we’ll be back in time for a&b!!! meet you there?

“Well, so much for meeting back up now,” Mark says, showing Donghyuck the texts.

He types in a _sure lol lmk when you’re headed back_ , and then makes sure Donghyuck isn’t looking at his phone anymore when he types out another, _and yeah donghyuck is cool hahaha_.

Jeno texts him back immediately, _enjoy your date :)_ and Mark ignores it, quickly stuffing his phone back into his pocket and turning back to Donghyuck.

“So… I think Beyer’s starting soon at the main stage?”

Donghyuck smiles back at him brightly, and takes his hand in his, warm and solid. “Let’s go.”

♪♫♪

Mark has always liked how Donghyuck looks behind a DJ table. He likes how Donghyuck looks squished beside him in a crowded restaurant, eye contact fleeting because they’re too close together to look at each other straight on. He really, _really_ likes how Donghyuck looks laid out in the grass, eyes closed against the sun, golden on his skin.

Donghyuck dancing, though. This might just be Mark’s favorite Donghyuck so far.

There’s a beer in his hand that he lifts up with his arms, in the air when the DJ tells them to, and it’s one of Mark’s favorite songs, but Donghyuck is all smooth movements and hips and a smile on his face as he cheers, and Mark can barely take his eyes off of him. 

It’s crowded but not suffocatingly so, but Donghyuck still keeps brushing up against Mark as he moves, not quite close enough to be dancing _with_ him but close enough to make every touch feel a little more deliberate than by chance, and by halfway through the set Mark is sweating from much more than the heat. 

They’d each shotgunned a can of beer on their way to the stage, too, in addition to the ones in their hands, and Mark can feel the vague cloud of alcohol beginning to creep into his head, and it’s all sensation when he closes his eyes, all the beat pounding through his chest and his ears, all heat when Donghyuck’s arm brushes his, when his hips tap against Mark’s, when he catches Mark’s eyes and smirks from the side of his mouth.

They dance, and the sun falls lower in the sky, and if Donghyuck was golden before, he’s _glowing_ now.

Mark jumps when Donghyuck grabs his arm toward the end of the set, and leans in close to speak, “A&B is next, should we try to find Renjun and Jeno now?”

_No,_ he thinks, because Donghyuck’s breath is hot on his ear. 

“Sure,” is what he says, though, and Donghyuck takes his phone out to text Renjun, who instead of texting back, just calls him, even though they can barely hear themselves _think._ But they’d stayed near the edges of the crowd to sneak out when they needed to, and he grabs Mark’s hand to drag him away from the stage to try to hear over the noise, and interlocks their fingers. 

“What? You’re on the left side? Stage right? Yeah, we’re stage right, yeah, no, stage means as if you’re standing on the stage, dumbass… So stage left? You’re _what? Renjun_ -” He cuts himself off and brings his phone down to look at, the call disappearing from the screen. “Ass.”

Mark laughs, and Donghyuck is still holding his hand, and they’re both a little sweaty, but it’s still just this side of perfect.

“They’re on the other side, i think? I couldn’t understand shit but I think they’re already in the crowd, so we’ll never find them now.”

“Oh,” Mark says, not even trying to sound disappointed that he has Donghyuck all to himself for the rest of the show. Then actually does blink and turn disappointed when he remembers, “Ah, dammit, Jeno’s still got my dab pen. I just got a new cartridge -”

“Mark,” Donghyuck interrupts him, having taken a step closer as he spoke, and squeezes his hand where they hang between them. “I think it’s just you and me for the night.”

“Oh, yeah. Sweet,” Mark squeaks, and then clears his throat. “Sweet,” he repeats, way smoother, because he’s totally cool. He turns his head when he hears the crowd erupt in cheers for Adam Beyer, nearing the end of his set and yelling into the mic to hype the crowd up for Above & Beyond, and when he looks back to Donghyuck, he finds his eyes looking all around his face, lingering on his lips. He licks them self consciously and clears his throat again.

“Let’s go dance,” Donghyuck says, and leads him by their joined hands, back into the crowd.

♪♫♪

This time, there’s no space. There’s only heat, and movement, and the suffocating, intoxicating feeling of _Donghyuck._

There’s only his arms around Mark’s neck, his shoulders and hips sliding to the beat, his face so, so dangerously close. Mark slides his hands on Donghyuck’s hips, t-shirt thin beneath his hands, so warm, so warm, and his hands fit so perfectly on the curve of his waist, and it’s _perfect,_ so fucking overwhelmingly perfect, so close to the line of way too fucking _much._

Then he turns around, and Mark is faced with the _way fucking worse_ situation of Donghyuck’s _ass,_ and this is all definitely way too fucking much. He’s not even really drunk but there’s something intoxicating about the boy in his arms, his hands over Mark’s, how he keeps them pressed against his waist as he dances.

Finally he pulls Mark around him even more in a full embrace and leans back into his chest, moving them together. Mark’s nose brushes Donghyuck’s ear, and his hair tickles his cheek, and Donghyuck tilts his head back, back, falling against Mark’s shoulder, his neck long and exposed. 

Mark hesitates, because he doesn’t want to go too far, no matter how badly he wants him, how badly he _wants,_ but Donghyuck lifts his arm up and snakes his hand around the back of Mark’s head, pulling him down, almost hitting his bandana off in the process. Suddenly Mark’s face is pressed fully into Donghyuck’s neck, though, damp, breathing him in deep, and he smells like the summer, like warmth and sweat and grass.

Mark finally parts his mouth to taste him, because his fingers are entwined in Mark’s hair at his nape, because they fit together like puzzle pieces, because Donghyuck wants this too, and knowing that takes away every barrier. 

He kisses at the skin just at the base of Donghyuck’s neck, just beside the collar of his t-shirt, and he feels Donghyuck inhale, feels him bare himself even more to Mark, to his mouth, to every point of heat and contact between them, swaying together in the crowd. 

Donghyuck’s skin tastes like salt and feels like fire, hot as Mark’s tongue as he darts it forward to lick at him through an open mouthed kiss, long and slow as he drags his lips along Donghyuck’s skin, up, up, along the column of his neck, feeling the muscles shifting just beneath. 

Donghyuck pulls him closer, then, closer, impossibly fucking closer, and moves his hips against Mark’s, and the friction makes him gasp, mouth opening, and he breathes out hot against his neck.

“ _Donghyuck._ ”

It makes Donghyuck finally pick his head back up, turning in Mark’s arms until he’s facing him again, and he wraps his arms back around Mark’s neck. Their eyes meet, and there’s no hiding the fire in each other’s eyes. What they both _want._

Mark slides his hands down, back down to Donghyuck’s hips, lower, grabbing at his belt loops, at the leather hooked onto them and down onto his thighs, and he hooks his first two fingers in and tugs him close with a jerk, their bodies flush against each other. 

Donghyuck falls into it and Mark catches another smile on his lips before they’re finally, _finally_ kissing, no pause, no hesitation, no holding back, just their lips on each other’s as if they’ve done this a thousand times. There’s just Donghyuck’s tongue hot and insistent pressing into Mark’s mouth, just a soft moan from the back of Mark’s throat as he opens up for him, tastes him, gets lost in him and the bitter taste of beer on his tongue.

His fingers run back through the hair at Mark’s nape, tugging at it gently, and it makes Mark gasp and open up even more, keeping his hold on Donghyuck’s belt, keeping them pressed together, not even bothering to hide or be embarrassed at how he’s starting to press into Donghyuck, how he knows Donghyuck must be able to feel him, because Donghyuck just kisses him harder.

It’s kind of disgusting, really, with how thoroughly damp they both are, with a full day of dust and sweat on their skin, but there’s something special about a mid-show makeouts, sound and bodies and heat pressing in around, pressing you into each other. And of the handful that Mark has experienced, this doesn’t even come close to registering as anything less than _complete fucking perfection_. Every thought in his mind flutters around between _fuck_ and _yes_ and _more_ and _please,_ and it all centers on _Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck._

They kiss for a long time, probably longer than they should with the amount of people around them probably yelling at them to get a fucking room, not that they’d hear it at all if anybody did. 

Mark really can’t bring himself to care, and has a feeling that Donghyuck doesn’t, either. 

Eventually they break apart, pressing their foreheads together and breathing heavy for a long moment. Donghyuck moves back in, then, to kiss the corner of Mark’s mouth, kissing up his cheek slowly, his jaw, and it’s so gentle, so sweet, so innocent after the hunger that they’d just been drowning in.

When he reaches Mark’s ear, though, he says, breath hot on Mark’s ear, “Come back to my hotel with me?” 

_“Really?”_ Mark squeaks, voice cracking high, and Donghyuck laughs as he pulls away, and Mark is so glad he can hear it over the noise, because it’s so much better than music. He’s really about to ask if they can leave right fucking then and there, but then adds quickly, “I mean, yeah, definitely. For sure. You sure?” 

Donghyuck doesn’t answer, just gives him an absolutely _vicious_ smile and turns back around, going back to dancing as if he hadn’t just flipped Mark’s whole world upside-down, as if Mark is capable of thinking of anything other than what he’d just proposed. He stays close, and it’s slow goddamn torture, having Donghyuck moving against him like this, and having to wait.

Mark should’ve known it’d end up this way, really, with all of Donghyuck’s flirting, all his teasing. But his eyes keep flicking over to Donghyuck in wonder, the deep flush on his cheeks from the heat, the swollen glisten of his lips in the flashing lights, and his mind goes wild with the possibilities.

His hotel. _Fuck._

But Mark holds him close, and wills himself to calm down, trying - with little success - to put his attention back on the show happening before them, and they dance together for the rest of the night, always close, always touching, every point of contact buzzing, electric.

♪♫♪

The show ends with a bang, cannons shooting the final and biggest round of multicolored paper confetti fluttering over the crowd, and it falls like snow through the rays of flashing lights, and Donghyuck turns and pulls Mark into a kiss again, and it’s just as perfect as the first. A thrill shoots through Mark when he remembers that he can keep kissing Donghyuck, that this isn’t their end, not yet. That he has him for tonight, at least. Donghyuck’s hand curls tight into his shirt, and he doesn’t _want_ it to end, now or maybe ever.

A piece of confetti falls directly into their kiss and forces them to break apart, and Donghyuck laughs loudly at Mark as he sputters to spit it out. He’s still laughing as he takes Mark’s hand and turns back to give their final screams for the show, lifting their joined hands into the air together, and Mark thinks for the millionth time that today might just be the perfect fucking day. 

The crowd disperses fairly quickly after the flood lights come back on, and Mark and Donghyuck decide to finally try to meet back up with their friends. 

At least, _Mark_ decides to. Donghyuck decides that playing with his ear and pouting at him is far more important.

“Ugh,” he whines, leaning heavy on Mark’s shoulder and tugging at his ear, “do they wanna hang out?”

“Just for a bit,” Mark answers distractedly, trying very hard to focus on texting Jeno their location and figuring out a meeting spot, and not the comfortable weight of Donghyuck’s chin on his shoulder, his arms curling around Mark’s waist in a back hug. Mark flushes as he knows Donghyuck watches him type out _and uh, i might not be coming back to our hotel tonight after, haha,_ to Jeno. He locks his phone before Jeno can reply with something exponentially more embarrassing like the long string of high five and 100! And - god forbid - splashing or eggplant emojis that Mark knows are probably coming.

“Let’s make it quick,” Donghyuck says, and Mark can hear the pout in his voice. “I really wanna get back to my hotel.” 

He says it in such a fucking casual voice - _how_ \- and he’s so close to Mark’s ear that it makes his skin erupt in goosebumps, at the proximity, at the fucking _implications._

“We’ll just go meet up to say hey, okay?” Mark says, in as normal a voice as he can muster, putting one of his hands gently over Donghyuck’s where they’re linked over his stomach. “They wanna meet up by the merch booth.”

“Fine,” Donghyuck sighs, but doesn’t make any motion to move. 

“Hyuck, come on,” Mark tries to pry him off, but Donghyuck holds tight.

“Ooh, I like when you say my name,” Donghyuck says in a voice that is clearly overdoing a Sexy Seductive Voice, and Mark hates that even though it’s exaggerated, the act still makes him twitch in interest, stomach turning with a heat that hasn’t quite left him all evening.

“ _Hyuck,_ ” he says, amused, still trying to pull his arms from his stomach.

“Oh _yeah,_ just like that -”

“Donghyuck!” Mark laughs, finally yanking himself free from Donghyuck’s hold, and Donghyuck cackles as he takes his hand again, tugging him away.

“Alright, alright, let’s go, come on, we don’t have all night. Well, we do, but still. I know you just wanna get your dab pen from Jeno, anyway.” He shakes his head and sighs forlornly. “Can’t believe I want in your fucking jean shorts so bad.”

“What’s wrong with my shorts?”

♪♫♪

It doesn’t take long to spot Jeno, Renjun, and Jaemin standing behind the merch display, their backs to them, and Mark lets go of Donghyuck’s hand as they approach. Donghyuck gives him a look that says _they’re all gonna know you’re coming home with me, anyway,_ but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey hey HEY,” Donghyuck greets loudly, throwing his arms over both Renjun and Jaemin’s shoulders and hanging off of them. “ _Finally._ Mark and I thought we’d never see you guys again.”

“Drama queen,” Renjun says, going to grab Donghyuck’s wrist where it’s hanging over his shoulder to push it off, but then grips it tight and pulls it up to his face. “Hang on, are you wearing fucking _kandi_?”

“We’re literally at an EDM festival, what’s wrong with wearing kandi,” Donghyuck says defensively, and Renjun pushes his arm off of his shoulder and turns to take a good look at him.

“Are you covered in _glitter,_ too?”

Donghyuck looks down at himself and the very obvious body glitter shimmering off his black clothes. “No.”

Renjun looks directly from Donghyuck, to Mark, and back to Donghyuck, completely deadpan. “Seriously?”

Jaemin cackles loudly, and Mark thinks that maybe they should’ve just showed up holding hands after all, because it would’ve been worlds better than _this._

“How’d you guys like A&B?” Jeno asks brightly, an honest to god lifesaver. “Did you catch Beyer earlier too?”

Mark answers, grateful for the change of topic, and Jaemin slides into their conversation to leave Donghyuck and Renjun wrestling beside them. 

(“Could you even hear the show over being disgusting?”

“I don’t need my mouth to _hear,_ bitch.”)

They chat for another minute before Donghyuck butts into their conversation loudly, seemingly done with Renjun, and grabs Mark’s hand, “Well, we’re gonna go, bye.”

“But you literally just got here,” Jaemin says, but Donghyuck is already trying to drag Mark away.

“And now we’re literally just going! There’s a whole day two tomorrow, Nana, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

♪♫♪

“So are you and Renjun always… like that?”

They’re walking hand in hand, having decided to walk the three short blocks back to Donghyuck’s hotel. Despite how eager they both are, it’s a beautiful night, and Mark likes spending time with Donghyuck. Really, _really_ likes it.

“Oh yeah, Junnie and I have been best friends for years. That’s how we show love.”

“It’s kind of how I act with my brother,” Mark says.

“Exactly,” Donghyuck answers, gentler, a soft smile on his face. 

Mark tells him about his brother, and they walk together slowly, and it feels so very much like a first date, and he feels warm at the idea, at the possibility that this is more than just a one night thing to Donghyuck. 

It feels dangerous to expect anything more, but here, walking under city street lights with Donghyuck’s hand warm in his, Mark lets himself hope.

♪♫♪

It’s sweet, and easy, and innocent until the moment they step into the elevator to ride up to Donghyuck’s floor at the hotel, and he crowds Mark up against the wall as soon as the doors start to slide shut.

He doesn’t kiss him immediately, just hooks his hands onto the metal handrail on either side of Mark’s hips and smiles at Mark’s head hitting the wall behind him. 

Mark is the one to surge back forward to capture Donghyuck’s lips in a kiss, though, and it’s slower than any of their kisses before, sweeter, and he lingers before pulling back away.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you,” Donghyuck says against Mark’s lips, voice low.

It takes Mark a moment to register what he actually just _said,_ but he squeaks out a “what?” at the same moment the elevator dings, and Donghyuck is pulling him out of the elevator by his hips, and there will be plenty of time to talk _after._

Donghyuck kisses him again in the hallway, keeping their hips pressed together, and the slow sweetness is quickly replaced with urgency, with desperation, with _pressure,_ hot and familiar like the heat of Donghyuck’s mouth, the warmth of his skin as Mark pulls his shirt untucked from his jeans and slides his hands up underneath it, the breathless moan from deep in Donghyuck’s throat, or maybe that was from Mark himself. He can’t even tell anymore, where he ends and where Donghyuck begins.

Somehow they make it to his door, and Mark sucks fervently at his neck as he fumbles with the key card, and finally, _finally_ they’re pushing into the room, almost knocking directly into some art hung on the wall as the door slams shut behind them and Donghyuck wastes no time pushing Mark onto the bed and climbing up over him, straddling his hips. Mark immediately runs his hands up his thighs - those perfect fucking thighs - and he hooks his fingers back under the leather belts.

“Like these on me?” Donghyuck says, smiling down at him and sliding his hands up under Mark’s tank, pushing it up his stomach.

“Yeah,” Mark admits, wiggling at the tickle of Donghyuck’s touch across his chest. “They’d look better off you, though.”

“Oh, real smooth,” Donghyuck laughs, and pushes for Mark to take his shirt off entirely, which he does, tossing it aside along with his bandana and instantly pulling Donghyuck back down onto him and his open mouth.

“Can you - Mark, I want -” 

Donghyuck can barely get the words out between kisses, but Mark doesn’t even let him finish before he’s just saying yes, _yes, yes, please, any way you want,_ and there’s not much more talking, after that. 

Mark’s not sure he’s ever been more turned on in his God given 20-something years of _life,_ watching Donghyuck kiss down his chest, watching him kneel between his legs. No fantasy his mind had conjured up in the past few months could ever compare to _this,_ to the heat of Donghyuck’s mouth and the vibration of the back of his throat when he takes him just that bit too deep. To Donghyuck’s fucking _eyes,_ meeting his, and the deep flush on his cheeks that hadn’t quite gone away since the heat of the show, the crowd, the music pressing around them.

It’s just them, now, alone, in the quiet, just Mark’s heavy breathing, just the quiet encouragements falling from his lips, just _yes,_ and _so good, Hyuck,_ and _please, please,_ and _Hyuck, wait, wait, I’m gonna -_

Donghyuck pulls off before Mark can end it all far too early, laughing at the way he whines at the loss, and whines even louder when Donghyuck disappears to the other side of the bed, only to return a moment later and toss something onto the bed.

Mark turns to look at the contents now by his head, the small bottle of lube and a condom. “Yo, you _packed_ for this?”

“It’s called being prepared,” Donghyuck says, finally shimmying his own jeans off, and Mark laughs as he sits up. “Are you complaining?”

Mark answers by grabbing his hips and yanking him close, and he pushes the hem of his shirt up to kiss his stomach, just above the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Definitely not.”

“Good, because I’ve really been looking forward to riding you.”

Mark’s mouth falls open as he looks up, meeting Donghyuck’s gaze, looking down at him like he’s a fucking treasure, and takes a very deep breath. Donghyuck will really be the fucking death of him. “ _Please._ ”

♪♫♪

This Donghyuck… This one wins out over all the others, hands down. This Donghyuck, whose fingers dig into Mark’s shoulder when he adds another finger, whose whimpers keep going higher and higher as he exhales hot against Mark’s mouth.

This Donghyuck, who knows exactly what he wants, exactly what Mark wants to give him, who knows how to move and give and take and drive Mark absolutely fucking wild, with every swivel of his hips, every flex of his thighs, every loud, breathless cry he spills out into the room, into Mark’s ears, his skin, singing in his every nerve.

Because it’s a melody, Donghyuck’s voice - his laughter, his whines, his whimpers, all of it a fucking _song,_ a refrain, a goddamn _symphony,_ every beat, every note, every harmony, and Mark has never loved music more.

♪♫♪

“We should shower.”

“Mphfh,” is Donghyuck’s answer, spoken into Mark’s neck, lying heavy on top of him. 

He has no idea what he’s trying to say, but it sounded very decisive, so it’s a good enough argument for Mark, splayed out on the bed except for the arm curled around Donghyuck, feeling boneless.

They lie there for a long moment, until he finally starts tapping around with his free hand to find Donghyuck’s t-shirt on the bed and sits up, Donghyuck rolling onto his back as Mark does a half-assed job of wiping them up, tossing it and the soiled condom aside. He looks over at Donghyuck lying naked beside him, and finds him already looking back up, tired smile on his face.

Mark leans down and kisses it, gentle. 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says, so sweetly, so quiet, and it makes Mark’s heart clench.

They kiss slowly, all the urgency gone, and all that’s left is sweetness, tenderness, something like affection, almost like a promise. That this isn’t their end; that it’s just the beginning.

♪♫♪

Mark wakes up warm, and more relaxed than he’s felt in as long as he can remember.

He opens his eyes to the expanse of Donghyuck’s back spread out in front of him, sunlight filtering in through the tall hotel window, and blinks the sleep from his eyes quickly when he sees a tattoo there that had somehow completely escaped his notice the night before. 

It runs along his spine, neat geometric shapes overlapping and tied together by a singular vine weaving up through them, curling around all the sharp edges, leaves scattered along it and growing longer near the top. It’s an interesting graphic, and something about it just feels so Donghyuck. Put together, sharp and dynamic. Full of life. 

He doesn’t want to wake him, yet, but he can’t help but to reach out and run his fingertips lightly along it down Donghyuck’s spine, his skin smooth and warm, and Mark smiles at the boy before him, at all the memories of the day before flooding his mind. 

_Since the first time I saw you._

Donghyuck has wanted him for this long? For as long as Mark has wanted him? His mind spins, wondering if Donghyuck has only ever wanted to sleep with him, or if he’d wanted more, if he wants more now. Mark traces the lines of the tattoo with his fingers. He doesn’t know what Donghyuck wants, but he knows what he wants, and it’s this. All of this. 

The sunlight, the warmth, warm skin and laughter and music, everything that Donghyuck has to offer.

He replaces his fingertips with his lips, and starts pressing kisses down Donghyuck’s spine until he stirs, and he backs away as Donghyuck turns around and rubs at his eyes. 

“Morning.”

“Mmm,” Donghyuck hums sleepily, stretching out beside him, his leg sliding along Mark’s where they’re tangled beneath the blankets. 

“How did I not notice you have a tattoo last night?”

Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow, looking at Mark propped up on his elbow through still half closed eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up, “We were a little distracted.” His voice is gritty with sleep, and Mark loves the sound of it.

“It’s cool. I like it.”

Donghyuck’s smile spreads further, and he looks at Mark, more alert now. “Well, I’ll give you a better view of it next time you fuck me, then.”

Mark’s eyes go wide in surprise, and Donghyuck laughs, quiet with sleep.

“Dude, how do you say this shit so casually?” Mark laughs, dragging his hand over his face. “Hang on,” he drops his hand and looks straight at Donghyuck. “Next time?”

Donghyuck looks at him curiously, and something flashes on his face before he smirks, “Please, of course you wanna fuck me again. Or I could fuck you -”

“Hyuck,” Mark interrupts.

“Oh, do you not bottom?”

“No, I - I mean, yeah, I do, I mean, like,” Mark sighs, falling back onto his back with a groan. He turns his head and looks at Donghyuck across their pillows. “Dude… do you wanna, like. Go on a date?”

Donghyuck pauses, and Mark is terrified for the briefest moment that he’s about to say _no, um, thanks, this was fun but I’m not interested in anything more._ But then a smile blooms on his face, and all the twisting in Mark’s stomach dissipates instantly.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, and now he’s the one propping himself up on his elbow to lean over Mark. He runs his hand up Mark’s chest, palm flat, stopping just over his heart, and his eyes are suddenly intense on Mark’s. “Yes,” he says again, softly, “let’s go on a date. Or a few dates, if you want to. I want to. _Dude._ ” 

When he kisses Mark, then, it’s chaste, just a long press of his lips. But from the way Mark’s heart flutters beneath Donghyuck’s hand, it might just be Mark’s favorite yet. 

Donghyuck pulls back, looking down at Mark so tenderly he’s expecting Donghyuck to tease him for the way his heart is racing, beating so fast, unable to hide its thrill that this boy wants to try this with him, too.

What Donghyuck says is, “We should shower first, though. _Then_ I can fuck you. _Then_ we can have our _second_ date.” He gives Mark a quick kiss once more before rolling off and getting out of bed, leaving him gaping speechlessly at his back. 

He watches Donghyuck pick up around the room, stark naked, throwing Mark’s clothes onto the bed and his own into his open suitcase, saying something about _this tank top is just gross, Mark_ and _can Jeno bring you your clothes?_ and _actually I don’t want to know what other outfits you brought with you,_ and he thinks about all the mornings that could be like this. 

And, okay, not so much the tearing-Mark’s-fashion-sense-to-shreds, but the contentment, the familiarity, the knowledge that they fit together, like, _really_ fucking well. The excitement that there’s _more_ for them. He’s already so dangerously attached to this view, this feeling, this boy and his skin and his tattoo and his music and his _smile,_ and he wants to get to know it _all,_ wants to make it his, wants to make _them_ something.

He hears the shower start up and Donghyuck pops his head back around the corner. “Come on, Mark, get up,” he calls out as he disappears into the bathroom again. “No shower, no fucking, no date!”

Mark smiles, and throws the covers off, and gets up to follow Donghyuck, excited to join him for this and for everything to come.

**Author's Note:**

> please wash ur hands after spending a full day at a festival before fingering anyone thank u
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/polyjaemin) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/polyjaemin)


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